I'm not sure why, but lately I've been inexorably drawn to children's classics, and have even bought an antique bisque (well-used and patched-up of course) DOLL.
That's right. I'm reverting to my infancy or perhaps "re-parenting" myself. Or something. The Velveteen Rabbit, The Secret Garden, The Wind in the Willows, Peter Pan, Alice in Wonderland, The Yearling--these books formed me and the older I get, the more grateful I am for them.
How it is that animals understand things I do not know, but it is certain that they do understand. Perhaps there is a language which is not made of words and everything in the world understands it. Perhaps there is a soul hidden in everything and it can always speak, without even making a sound, to another soul. But whatsoever was the reason, the rat knew from that moment that he was safe—even though he was a rat. He knew that this young human being sitting on the red footstool would not jump up and terrify him with wild, sharp noises or throw heavy objects at him which, if they did not fall and crush him, would send him limping in his scurry back to his hole. He was really a very nice rat, and did not mean the least harm. When he had stood on his hind legs and sniffed the air, with his bright eyes fixed on Sara, he had hoped that she would understand this, and would not begin by hating him as an enemy. When the mysterious thing which speaks without saying any words told him that she would not, he went softly toward the crumbs and began to eat them. As he did it he glanced every now and then at Sara, just as the sparrows had done, and his expression was so very apologetic that it touched her heart.
--Frances Hodgson Burnett, A Little Princess
|SCENES FROM MY FRIEND JUDY'S GARDEN|
|CABBAGE, BREAD, AND SAUSAGE SOUP, |
SERVED IN COPPER TUREEN AT JUDY'S RECENT LUNCHEON.
MY PEOPLE HAVE CLASS!